Her First Proving Ground
by syzygy13
Summary: 2nd Lieutenant Jennifer Hailey proved herself worthy in Proving Ground, but what happened to make her that way to begin with? A story of Basic Training, mean cadre, and thin air.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Before we begin, it's been a while since I've written much on this site. As a matter of fact, it's been a while since I've written anything but a paper. This is a story about 2nd Lieutenant Jennifer Hailey, recent graduate of the United States Air Force Academy (assuming she was a grad of the class of 2002- RTB forever, baby, and stretching the truth by making her a Skyraider (which actually went out of commission one month before she in-processed)). She looks so headstrong and independent during Prodigy and Proving Ground, but chances are she didn't start out that way. Basic does things to a person that they never thought possible- and after my recent experience, this popped into my head as something I could write about with a decent level of expertise.

Her First Proving Ground

"Determined," was the word you could use to describe Jennifer Hailey. A stellar cadet, she proudly wore the Superintendent's Pin (which looks like it could take someone's eye out if they weren't careful) signifying a 3.0 in every facet of the cadet's life- academics, athletics, and military. She was the picture of the ideal cadet- excellent in all she did. Before, and even after, the incident with punching an upperclassman, she was held in high regard by her classmates, squad mates, and teachers. But before she did all this, she had to prove herself to her worst enemies- herself, and her BCT cadre.

BCT- Basic Cadet Training, Basic, Beast, Hell, whatever you want to call it- is part of every Cadet's transition into the Wing. You are Basics: you have no basic rights, get yelled at all the time, you are always wrong, you get nasty blisters from your new leather infantry boots, you march everywhere, and Vandenberg Hall smells because of you and 1200 more of your classmates. You are "dirty Basics," who never know their knowledge, wake up at four thirty, and you spend hours at night shining your boots (which are never shiny enough)- and they don't even let you sit down. You are pond scum; dirt on the cadres' pristine Corafram boots, and you become a better person because of it.

During in-processing, Jennifer Hailey did not stand out. A green seventeen year old straight form high school, it was immediately obvious to the cadre that she made it in on brains. During the school year, this is a blessing. During Basic, it gets you nowhere.

To understand the way things work during Basic, one must understand the groupings. There are ten squadrons consisting of about 130 basic cadets. Each squadron, letters A through J, are separated into four flights, A through D. Jennifer found herself placed in Jaguars A flight, which, during the school year, translated into Squadron 37- Animalistic Skyraiders. Of course, there was dreaded Group Staff, who were the scariest firsties and two degrees Permanent Party could find.

For Basic Hailey, knowledge came easily. Flight Staff took only a few run-throughs to master: Flight Commander, Cadet Captain Justin P. Martinson, 1st/2nd Element Leader, Cadet 1st Lieutenant Carl K. Mitchell, and so on and so forth. Life in the first few weeks of Basic wasn't too bad; she got three meals a day (though seven chews per bite was a little (really) ridiculous, she conceded) got to sleep a decent amount ( if 2300-0430 was decent, then sure) and the cadre stayed off her back because she looked Sierra Hotel and knew her stuff, and helped her classmates, too. She was made A-2 element chief and led the way in marching in the front left position- a great place for left turns, but right turns were terrible. That, and the kid next to her really just couldn't march, she decided. Element chiefs are not chosen on marching ability.

It was at the end of 1st BCT when things started getting rough. They were issued M-14 rifles (not operational, of course) and were taught rifle drill. This either comes easily or is the bane of a basic cadet's existence, and for some reason, Jennifer Hailey just could not master the 15 count rifle manual. Port arms, left shoulder arms, right shoulder arms, present arms, order arms in rapid succession did not come easily to poor Basic Hailey, and it caused her a lot of grief.

That was only the beginning.

Soon thereafter, tried and true first BCT cadre left to pull off another three week trip either on Ops or at home, and the new cadre "introduced" themselves. Eight new people, all five times as scary as their 1st Beast cadre were at first. The new flight commander spouted off how he had chosen these cadre because of their athletic, academic, and military achievements and that they could basically kick 36 (though now 34) basic cadets' collective asses. That was the instant she knew she was not going to like Jack's Valley.

They marched out to Jack's in a few days with rifle in hand, much to her chagrin. She hated that damn rifle, who she had lovingly named Barney- she wanted to drop kick her damn rifle about as much as she wanted to drop kick that stupid purple dinosaur. It worked.

Then came tent setup- by far the most fun day anyone has at Jack's. They spend two or so hours trying to figure out the damn knots for the ropes they have to replace, then deal with the fact that no matter how hard they try, it sinks in randomly in the back left corner. The girls notice about four medium sized holes in the tent, that, when it rained, which it inevitably would, would allow a massive amount of water in. Of course, they fought over the prime spots (places without holes) with a round of rock paper scissors; those who lost were most sorely discontent. A flight was in the same tent as B flight, as there were only six or seven girls in each flight, they had to share a tent. It was tough getting used to new neighbors, and Jennifer often thought her roommates were too whiny- "We have the assault course in the morning, there's no way we're doing tent guard." But stupid girls, the entire squad is doing the assault course in the morning- but A flight got the least amount of sleep. It sucked, to say the least.

A common occurrence before second beast that happens is that at least one of the cadre tell their basics that the trains go by at 0200 and 0500- and reveille in Jack's is supposed to be at 0530. This is supposed to be a nice gesture on the part of the cadre to help their basics out in second beast, but as it turns out, the trains go by about once every half hour- meaning that everyone in the tent is up and in a frenzy as soon as they hear the first train- only to realize that it's about 2330.

Fucking cadre.

A/N: Reviews make me happy. Part two: Jack's Valley, Dust Machine


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

Wow, I have no time here. Sorry for all of you who read (and I know that I got more hits than reviews, so you're out there!) and I've been holding out. I just haven't had time! But here we go.

* * *

They were out to get her. She was sure of it. Like lions going for the weak zebra in a herd, they attacked her. She wasn't fast enough, she broke on pushups too quickly, she was deemed an idiot for forgetting one word in the Code of Conduct and throwing people off, or accidentally greeting a cadet master sergeant as technical sergeant. These last discrepancies, however, are common among basics. It was simply the fact her voice stood out so much which got her in trouble, because all the guys sound alike whether or not they make a mistake, and girls generally don't sound off that well. Poor Jennifer had the misfortune of having a distinct, loud voice.

During first beast, she had been a great basic; one of the best in her flight: knew her knowledge, shit hot uniforms, a good element chief, even though she was too short to be the best marcher. Her status was a lot like it was in high school. People didn't give her shit.

But now, she didn't really know what to do. She had made the decision to be the best she could but something inside her also needed not only to do her best, but the best.

This is quite a feat as far as second beast goes, especially because it's all physical. When you're 5'3", 120 pounds, it's hard to accomplish a lot of beast. The assault course, which includes a lot of frightening upperclassmen you've never met yelling at you, ten pound "rubber duckies" (hard rubber, fake M-16s), and combat helmets that never stay on, was her first real task. Their first time through was in their respective elements of about nine people.

The sign out front, before one starts the actual course, says, "Only the Strong Survive."

"Oh, boy," Basic Hailey muttered as they marched onto the open field on which the course started. They were instructed to un-blouse their pants, button their top button on the collar, and take everything out of their pockets and put it in their stupid red hats. They took one last sip from their canteens.

It began.

Yelling, screaming, low crawling, high scrawling, running, more low crawling, running, high knees, high crawling, and even more high knees. While it only lasted about five minutes, it felt like much longer. Five minutes of aerobic activity followed by running to go pick up rubber duckies and helmets, and frantically trying to fit the helmet to your head before being yelled at to get in place. They learned moves with the fake weapons: butt smash, parries, stabbing movements… then they were yelled at to go back and were sorted into actual lines.

It was horrible, as far as Jennifer was concerned. More of this ensued.

The assault course, the actual one, not this fun little warm up, takes forever to get through the first time around. They make you do things over and over until you get it right (right being perfect, or as close to perfect as possible). This happens for fourteen (give or take a few) events, and for some reason, they assume this is what modern day combat is actually like.

Who knows.

Jennifer soon learned that much of what the Air Force told her did not make sense, and it was better to just stop asking questions all together, else she become even more confused than she already was. For instance: For the entirety of basic, Jennifer only saw the sprinklers on once out on the terrazzo, and it was raining; perfect example of Air Force common sense.

But as we return to the assault course, an executive decision has been made; Jennifer would rather not relive that, and so we only have the beginning. What she does remember, and hasn't blocked out, includes a lot of low crawling, three-point rolls, and at the top of the hill the assault course had been built on, a one or two foot deep puddle of water she had to swim through (God knows what was in that water) without getting her rubber duckie wet. The only thing the remembers about that one was that it was oh so nice and refreshing, even though she had probably five cadre screaming at her the entire time.

Oh well.

The rest of the courses during Basic were a piece of .. well, cake, for Jennifer. They didn't involve as much physical activity (except the O-course, but that one is much more fun).

The Leadership Reaction Course, or LRC (Safety First!), tests the problem solving abilities of an element by giving them half an hour to come up with a solution to a random problem, like Dr. No's Fortress, which involves having to take a barrel over two metal fences without it touching the ground, and get everyone else over as well with only two wooden poles and a wooden plank. It's a lot harder than it sounds.

SABC, Self-Aid and Buddy Care (or the Severe Ass-Beating Course) teaches basic combat first aid while at the same time getting beaten and yelled at.

The Confidence Course didn't really do much to boost Jen's confidence, but it's a good afternoon you don't get beaten for.

Jennifer thinks, however, that the Obstacle Course was probably her favorite. She had a giant football player as her partner, and he helped her a lot when something was a little too tall, but it was fun because they played Ping-Pong with upperclassmen he knew for a little over twenty minutes. Ping-Pong is a game cadre like to play during the O-Course to make the basics run a little. A cadre will say, "Go tell Cadet Smith ping." Cadet Smith will in turn say, "Pong." Sometimes they get creative and say other things, but generally this goes on as such for a while. The O-Course was good for Jen because they got to skip a lot of the beatings because they ran so much. It was a lot more fun than the others (though she did like LRC- Safety First!) and much more desirable than the A-Course, which she had yet to run through a second time.

Again, we won't relive.

One of her flight-mates had his birthday near the end of July while they were still out in Jack's. The cadre made everybody do 18 of nearly everything in honor of Basic Logan's new age: pushups, situps, crunches, 8-count body builders, pullups, flutter kicks- you name it, they did it. They got taken out to the beating fields. They feared for their lives… but the cadre have a sick sense of humor.

They made everyone down their canteens- the whole thing- then stick it over their heads. This was done in place of more interesting things to drink.

Cadet Logan was offered a water buffalo stand, but he kindly refused for fear of his personal safety.

That night, they probably had a week or so left in Jack's, and Jennifer was feeling down. It happens a lot to cadets when they realize that sometimes something isn't all it's cracked up to be. It was almost taps and her hair was still wet from a shower and she turned to the girl who was her roommate during first beast. "Hey Laura?"

"Yeah?"

"Why did you come here? I mean really… why?"

She gave a short laugh. "I guess I'm already getting cynical, but I really don't know. I wanted to come to be a doctor, be an officer, but from what I hear from the upperclassmen, sometimes it doesn't seem worth it."

"I know how you feel.." Jennifer sighed. "Nothing is ever good enough for them. I can't be good enough. If I can't be good enough for them, how will I be good enough for a captain? A colonel? Hell, a general or the commander in chief himself! I don't know if I'll make it, Laura…" She looked down from her folding of socks into her footlocker.

"Look, Jennifer, if any of us can make it, it's you. You may be small, but I listen to you talk about all your physics and stuff! You're smart- real smart. You'll get through here no problem. All you have to do is have the drive. Me? I had a dream of becoming a doctor. Now I realize I'll probably get stuck in intel, maybe drive heavies. You? You came here as a physicist, hoping for the Air Force to make you better. I see the way you drive through the courses. You have the will… me? Maybe not. I fell out of the A-course…"

"Laura, you had a respiratory infection and it was dustier than the desert! You can't say you won't make a good officer because of the A-course. Don't get too down on yourself.. and I won't get too down on myself. Deal?"

They stuck out their hands and shook, smiling at one another. "Off we go.." Laura quipped.

"Indeed," Jennifer replied, chuckling, "Indeed."

* * *

The next day there was a major beat down session. One of the kids from B-flight had stolen a cup of pudding from the Mitchell hall tent and the whole squadron was being punished for it. There were endless pushups and flutter kicks, and no end to bodybuilders and ranger claps. They were miserable. Once, while they were being beat, they had done so many pushups she had lost count, and suddenly felt as though she couldn't do anymore. She muffled a cry of pain as she attempted another one, and the squad comm came up in front of her and yelled, "ARE YOU GOING TO QUIT ON ME, HAILEY?!"

That was her breaking point.

"NO SIR!!"

"Good."

She really did have the drive.

The rest of Jack's went by pretty quickly. By the end, Jennifer was only struggling a little physically, but she was much better than she was. The last day approached and they took down the tents, practically at rest around the compound. It was a lot of fun as far as they were concerned. They had a rifle manual competition between the flights, and a kid in her flight named Charlie who had gone to the prep school kicked serious butt. There was much rejoicing.

After all was said, done, packed and folded, it was time to head back. They all ran back to the hill on what they call the "Warrior Run," again, rifle in hand, instead of marching back like they did on the way down. The upperclassmen make it extra fun, because you get back, unpack stuff, lock up your rifles, and the next day they take you to run the steepest hill they can find, dropping you and beating you as often as humanly possible. It's miserable, but it could be worse. Then, they move into their new squadrons. Because they were Jaguars A-Flight, they would become members of Squadron 37- Animalistic Skyraiders.

Who knows, don't ask the mun.

They had to haul all their stuff across the terrazzo, from one corner of the dorms to the extreme other corner. It was far, and it was raining. Jen sighed as she lugged everything she owned in two trips… ripping a good sized hole in the bottom of her big white bag as a consequence. A few of her socks would never get clean. They got to their new squad, and none of the upperclassmen who had moved in were allowed to talk to them. It was depressing as anything. But no matter.

Tomorrow was Acceptance Day.

She would finally be a cadet.

* * *

Next time: Acceptance and some new and familiar faces. It will probably be the last one (this really was only supposed to encompass Basic). 


End file.
